


Barnyard

by LuxInvictus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Barnyard Antics, Farmer Castiel, Farmer Sam, Humor, I know nothing about farming, M/M, Or Chickens, Schoolteacher Dean, farm!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 05:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13517418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxInvictus/pseuds/LuxInvictus
Summary: Dean comes to Sam and Castiel with a very odd request.Technically a companion piece to Cock-A-Doodle-Doo, but can be read alone.





	Barnyard

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SPN AU/Trope Bingo Challenge on Tumblr.
> 
> Prompt filled: Farm!AU

-.-.-.-.-

Sam’s kneeling in the dry, crumbly soil of the cornfield, troubleshooting the drip irrigation system when the guttural grumble of an engine and the crunch of gravel beneath heavy tires draw his attention from his work. He’d know the sound of that engine anywhere. It’s a very distinctive sound. Swiping his dirty hands on his jeans, he gets to his feet, wondering what Dean could want at — he glances up at the sky, shading his eyes from the harsh glare of the sun — four o’clock in the afternoon? Ish? He’s still practicing telling time by the sun’s position in the sky, but a sneak peek at his watch tells him he’s right on target.

Dean parks the Impala in front of the barn, a cloud of dust billowing behind the muscle car as it comes to a stop. Tucking his hands loosely in his jeans pockets, Sam saunters over, careful not to smoosh any of the tiny green sprouts pushing their way through the dry clods. “Hey, Dean,” he calls out as Dean hops out of the car and slams the door with a heavy thud. “What’s up?”

“Howdy, pardner.” Sam meets Dean’s shit-eating grin with a tight-lipped smile. That joke was old the first time his brother used it. Three years he’s been running this little organic farm with his husband, and Dean still isn’t through with the redneck farmer shtick. Sam, though, is one hundred percent done.

“What’s up?” he asks again, coming to a stop on the edge of the field. “Kinda busy right now.”

Dean waves a hand like he’s swatting away flies. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” Grimacing, he swipes a hand down his face, shifting his weight from foot to foot, then grunts. “All right. Listen, I need to borrow a chicken.”

Sam jerks his head back and squints at his older brother. That’s honestly the last thing he expected Dean to want. “A…a chicken? Like, a live chicken?” he asks just as the barn door creaks open. Castiel pokes his head through the crack, a bit of hay stuck in his dark hair, but as usual he seems oblivious.

“Hello, Dean,” he says somberly, like he’s welcoming his brother-in-law to a funeral and not their humble little farm. “I thought I heard your car. Is there something Sam and I can help you with?”

“He wants to borrow a chicken,” Sam says before Dean can answer.

Dean nods and grins, back to his usual I’m-so-awesome routine. “Just for the next day or so.”

Castiel tilts his head and stares at Sam. Sam just shrugs and holds up his palms. Hell if he knows what Dean’s on about.

Apparently deciding that this conversation is worth abandoning his chores in the barn, Castiel slips outside and ambles over to Sam, casually slipping an arm around his waist. “And why do you need to…borrow a chicken, Dean?” he asks evenly, for all the world like family members dropping by to borrow livestock is a normal, everyday occurrence.

Dean swipes his tongue along his upper teeth, making his lip bulge, then huffs. “Okay, look. I…kinda got myself into a situation at work.” Sam’s brows arch up at that. What kind of situation could a kindergarten teacher get into that would require a chicken?

When Dean doesn’t elaborate, Sam makes a give-me-more gesture. Deans just scuffs his fancy school shoes in the dirt and admires his socks. Sam shares another glance with Castiel, then clears his throat. “Look man, we aren’t giving you one of our chickens unless you tell us why you need it.”

Dean fidgets in place and fixes his gaze on Sam’s chin. “Aww, c’mon Sammy,” he tries. “It’s just one chicken.”

“Why do you need it, Dean?” Castiel asks, giving Sam’s side a squeeze. Sam gives him a small smile, thanking him for having his back even in something as small as this.

Dean fidgets some more, biting his lower lip, then grunts. Hands curling into fists at his sides, he finally looks them (or at least Sam) in the eye. “Okay, fine. I was…talking with Nick during recess and his kid interrupted us and heard something he shouldn’t have.”

Sam cocks a brow. “Dude. Could you be any more vague?” he asks sarcastically, ignoring the thing about Nick. He’s hassled and nagged Dean about making out with his boyfriend in the classroom, but all his warnings have fallen on deaf ears. Looks like karma’s come and kicked Dean in the ass though, which Sam can’t help but feel a little smug about.

Dean groans and throws up his hands. “Look man, just give me the goddamn chicken, okay? I promise I’ll bring it back tomorrow afternoon in the same condition you gave it to me.”

Castiel rubs the knuckles of his free hands under his chin and glances up at Sam, head slightly tilted. Should we indulge him? his gaze asks, leaving the final decision to Sam.

Sam presses his lips together in a small grimace. On the one hand, Dean is being awfully sketchy on why he wants to borrow one of their animals. On the other, it’s not like Dean to actually hurt an animal (unless he’s eating it for dinner, in which case it’s already dead, so).

After a moment’s consideration he decides, what the hell? and gives a short nod. “Any particular chicken you want?”

Dean slumps in relief, knees buckling, then catches himself and plasters the cocky grin back on his face. “You won’t regret it, Sammy,” he says. “Promise I won’t harm a feather on its head.”

Sam motions for him to follow them and leads them around the back of the barn where the free range chickens are pecking at the seed he scattered for them earlier this morning. The big gray and white rooster, Zachariah, struts around the yard, making a tok-tok-tok sound every time he finds a fresh pile of food, but the hens ignore him. They’ve found some already.

Dean immediately points at the rooster. “That one.”

Sam and Castiel share yet another look. Zachariah isn’t exactly friendly to anyone, even them. Sam’s the only one who can get near him without getting pecked to death. The one time Castiel tried to collect eggs from the hens, Zachariah chased him around the yard, cawing and nipping at his heels. He only escaped when Sam ran outside and threw a handful of chicken feed in the opposite direction, distracting Zachariah.

Wetting his lips, Castiel takes a hesitant step forward. “I’m not sure that’s a wise decision, Dean. Perhaps one of the females?” He points to a cluster of brown and white hens sharing some seed, clucking softly to each other as they feed.

Dean’s shaking his head before Castiel is even done talking. “Nah, man, it has to be a rooster. That the only one you got?”

“Unfortunately,” Sam says. Castiel’s eye are glued on Zachariah, warily watching every step the bird takes. Having mercy on his husband, Sam clasps him on the shoulder.

“I’ll take it from here, babe,” he murmers. “Could you do me a huge favor though and get one of the dog crates and fill it with some hay for me?”

Smiling gratefully up at Sam, Castiel gives a small nod. “Absolutely, Sam. I will be right back.” With a peck on the cheek for Sam and a wave to Dean, Castiel heads back toward the barn.

Dean waves back, looking confused. “Hey, where’s Cas going?”

“Getting a crate,” Sam replies absently, psyching himself up to go snatch Zachariah. Just because the bird tolerates him doesn’t mean this is gonna be easy.

“A crate? Why?”

Sam throws him a bitch face. “You really think a rooster’s just gonna sit on the car seat like a dog?”

Dean makes a fair-enough face, and Sam turns back to the task at hand. Okay. If he can separate the rooster from the hens, he might be easier to catch. Might be less aggressive too, if he doesn’t think he needs to defend his flock. Absently rubbing his fingers together, Sam waits and watches, then sucks in a deep breath and darts forward.

Zachariah zigs left and darts for a small copse trees just as Sam’s fingertips brush the rooster’s tail feathers.

Right. So, trying that again. Setting his jaw, Sam creeps after the bird as it pecks around the roots. As it wanders around the trunk of a tree, Sam lunges to his left, but the chicken veers to the right.

Correcting his course, Sam dashes after it, circling the tree just as Zachariah decides nope, it’s gonna go left and streaks off across the yard toward the hens, Sam in hot pursuit.

Dean’s cackling on the sidelines. “Get it Sammy!” he yells, whooping and hollering like he’s at a football game. Sam spares him a glower, determined to catch this stupid bird now that it’s a matter of pride.

He chases it around the cluster of clucking hens, back toward the trees, back into the yard, around and around in loops and laps. Finally he corners it between the fence and the chicken coop. Before it can fly away, Sam takes a mighty leap and tackles it, grabbing the rooster by its feet.

Dean’s in stitches, tears streaming down his face as Sam picks himself up. Holding the squawking, flapping rooster trying to wriggle out of his grip at arm’s length, Sam trudges over just as Castiel emerges from the barn, arms wrapped around a large dog crate and a tattered old blanket. His knee twinges a bit from where he hit the ground at a weird angle, but all he feels is a sense of victory.

“Jesus, Sammy,” Dean wheezes as Castiel sets the crate on the ground and backs off, watching the spectacle from a respectable distance. “You think you’d be better at that by now.”

Spitting out dirt and feathers, Sam scowls at him and stuffs Zachariah into the crate, slamming the door shut before the rooster can escape and terrorize Castiel. “Yeah, like you could do better,” he snipes between pants, trying to catch his breath. Zachariah pitches a fit, pecking at the bars and kicking out some of the hay, but settles down a bit after Sam drapes the blanket over the front. “Just don’t let him out, okay?”

“Okay,” Dean says around a snort and giggle, obviously not taking this as seriously as he should. Whatever. Let him run around the yard trying to catch a chicken. He’ll see.

With Zachariah safely ensconced in the crate, Castiel deems it safe enough to accompany Sam as he walks Dean back to the Impala. After Dean settles Zachariah in the back seat, Castiel pulls a small plastic baggie of poultry pellets from his pocket and holds it out to Dean. “Feed him once in the morning and once in the evening.”

Dean takes the baggie and slips it into his slacks pocket. “Do I just dump some in there or what?” He jerks a thumb at the crate on the back seat.

Sam shakes his head. “You can pour some into a shallow bowl or put them on a plate. Doesn’t matter how much; he’ll eat what he wants and leave the rest.”

Dean nods. “Okay then. Guess I’ll be heading off.” Then he grins and tips an invisible cowboy hat at them. “Thank ya kindly, pardners.”

Sam shoots him a very plastic smile as Dean slides behind the wheel. Seriously. When is he gonna knock it off with the stupid cowboy shit?

As the Impala rolls down the gravel drive, classic rock blaring from the rolled down windows, Castiel sidles up beside Sam, a pensive expression on his face. “Do you think we should have warned him that Zachariah likes to crow all night long?”

Smirking, Sam shakes his head. “Nah.”

-.-.-.-.-

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are fabulous! :)
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @this-darkness-light for tons more Supernatural stuff. <3


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